P5" 


Poem  delivered  at  the  dedication  of  the 
Pan-American  exposition 


Cameron  ftogers 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


OEM    DELIVERED    AT 
THE    DEDICATION    OF    THE 
'AN-AMERICAN   EXPOSITION 


ROBERT  CAMERON  ROGERS 


/ 


POEM  DELIVERED  AT 
THE  DEDICATION  OF  THE 
PAN-AMERICAN  EXPOSITION 


ROBERT  CAMERON  ROGERS 


D.  P.   ELDER  &   MORGAN  SHEPARD 

SAN  FRANCISCO 

1901 


Cofjrigbttd,     IQOlt     by 
Robert   Camirtn    Rigtn 


SAN  FRANCISCO 


I. 


REAT  Sister  of  a  peerless  sisterhood, 

Dear  Sovereign  of  a  sovereign  people's  realm, 
Thou  whose  strong  hand  first  gripped  the  waiting  helm 
Of  the  bright  ship  whose  chart  reads  —  "Liberty"  — 
And  turned  her  prow  into  the  Western  sea, 
We,  in  thy  name,  and  as  thy  people  should, 
With  arms  extended,  and  the  door  wide  thrown, 
Welcome  thy  sisters  of  the  mighty  name, 
To  all  that  thou  hast  willed  should  be  our  own. 
To  thee  —  to  them  —  thy  sisters,  not  in  blood, 
But  of  one  heart,  of  purposes  the  same, 
Throughout  whose  veins  exults  the  untamed  flood 
That  drives  the  pulse  of  all  who  would  be  free, 
This  labour  of  our  hands  and  brains  and  hearts, 
Man's  palm  in  Nature's  struck  and  hers  in  Art's, 
At  the  chief  Commonwealth's  fair  farthest  gate 
We  dedicate. 


[  3  ] 


524328 

LIBRARY 


II. 


T7*  NCHANTED  city  where  the  dreaming  soul 

Conjures  the  minarets  of  far  Cathay  — 
And  half  expects  along  some  waterway 
To  hear  all   Venice  in  a  barcarole ; 
Mistress  of  moods,  across  whose  changing  face 
Half  of  old  Spain  and  half  of  Greece  we  trace  ; 
Hither  the  nations  of  the  West  have  brought 
Fruit  of  their  labour,  flower  of  their  thought ; 
Best  of  their  best  beside  our  best  finds  place : 
The  Saxon  vigor  vies  with  Latin  grace  ; 
And  tithes  are  paid  in  product  and  in  art. 
But  in  all  this  the  past  as  well  has  part. 
The  imperial  cities  of  the  world  have  shown 
Tributes  as  beautiful  at  worthy  shrines  ; 
Something  is  here  that  moves  on  different  lines ; 
A  master-thought  that  we  would  claim  our  own ; 
A  magic  word  —  a  dominant  that  cries 
Insistent  through  this  fugue  of  industries. 


[  4  ] 


III. 


OOME  magic  word  in  all  achievement  lies  — 
What  word  is  ours  ? 

If  for  a  moment  one 

Might  quite  undo  all  that  man  here  has  done, 
Should  level  to  the  earth  these  towers  that  rise 
Hued  like  an  opal  in  the  morning  skies, 
And  bid  this  radiant  city's  murmur  cease  ; 
Should  lull  the  distant  town  to  silent  peace, 
Still  clanging  engines  and  discordant  cries, 
And  hearken  as  this  spot  in  long-gone  years 
Hearkened  with  Nature's  myriad  woodland  ears, 
Out  of  the  awful  gorge  whose  throat  pours  forth 
The  song  of  all  the  waters  of  the  North, 
The  magic  word,  from  that  vast  consonance, 
Clear  as  the  Voice  that  in  the  primal  night 
Spoke  to  the  waking  world,   "Let  there  be  light!" 
Should  greet  his  listening  ear  beyond  perchance. 


[  5  ] 


IV. 


A     FORCE  —  that  from  the  daybreak  of  the  years 

Has  sent  its  voice  above  the  roaring  mist, 
Has  flung  this  magic  word  to  heedless  ears. 
To  savage,  or  to  untaught  colonist ; 
A  Force  —  that  knew  its  power  yet  could  not  gain 
Man's  hand,  and  lacking  this  its  power  was  vain, 
Linked  with  the  knowledge  of  this  later  age 
Flashes  at  last  into  its  heritage. 
A  Force  —  whose  voice  acclaims  to  us  today, 
"Behold  the  Genius  of  the  Century; 
Whose  beckoning  hand  as  yet  we  only  see 
Stretched  from  the  unseen  —  pointing  out  the  way. 
Yet  not  forever  will  she  dwell  apart, 
Follow  her  guidance  with  unflinching  heart, 
With  limbs  in  which  no  faltering  finds  place  ! 
So  at  the  last  perchance  ye  see  her  face!" 


V. 


r  I  ^YPE  of  the  sprites  who  wait  before  the  throne 

Of  the  great  kingdom,  of  the  Great  Unknown, 
To  future  ages  winged  messenger ; 
Old  as  God's  lightning  but  to  us  whose  ken 
Sees  but  the  distance  of  the  deeds  of  men, 
Youthful  as  yesterday,  a  child  new  born 
Just  waking  from  its  sleep,  yet  whose  first  stir 
Jars  the  old  order  from  its  groove  outworn. 


[7] 


VI. 


"XTET  there  is  more  that  we  would  dedicate, 

Something  that  makes  these  great  things  doubly  great, 
Outside  the  scope  of  Science  and  of  Art, 
And  labour's  handiwork  ;    within  the  heart, 
O  city  beautiful,  the  heart  of  thee ! 
Child  of  the  sunset  and  the  inland  sea, 
Thou  art  the  rainbow  promise  that  we  span, 
A  glowing  message  to  the  heart  of  man, 
Across  the  threshold  of  the  years  to  be ! 
******** 

We  saw  him  go,  who  is  but  lately  sped, 

The  old  great  century  whose  Fathers  came 

Out  of  the  smoke,  that  with  his  birth  turned  flame  ; 

And  still  we  almost  seem  to  hear  his  tread, 

Slow,  slow  receding,  firm  unto  the  last, 

To  see  him  dimly  with  his  unbent  head 

Leading  his  hundred  years  into  the  past, 

Among  the  great  centurions  of  lesser  fame. 


VII. 

TT  7E  know  too  well,  with  all  his  great  emprise, 

His  nervous  grasp  on  power,  unclouded  eyes, 
His  will  to  profit  by  free  thought  and  speech, 
When  sullen  nations  grappled  each  with  each 
That  he  was  only  impotently  wise. 
The  great  wars  thundered  in  his  infant  ears, 
The  great  wars  shook  him  in  his  later  years ; 
Beneath  the  curtain  of  the  stricken  field 
By  Glory's  riddled  banners,  half  concealed  — 
He  saw  the  tragedy  and  called  it  crime. 
But  heir  to  all  that  was,  last  child  of  Time, 
He  found  no  cure  for  what  his  soul  abhorred, 
And  when  he  passed,  his  right  hand  held  the  sword. 


[  9  ] 


VIII. 

"^k  TOW  swing  the  doors  upon  a  threshold  new  :  - 
The  nations  press  in  eager  tumult  through, 
And  with  wide,  careless  eyes  about  them   peer. 
The  pageant  of  the  present  fills  the  gate, 
The  clamor  of  the  instant  holds  the  ear 
Till  the  brass  portals  to  the  echoes  ring ; 
And  man,  contented  with  today's  estate, 
Recks  not  the  future,  howsoever  fraught. 
Almost  it  seems  the  steeds  of  action  spring, 
Unreined  by  judgment,  into  mid-career, 
And  drink  no  longer  at  cool  springs  of  thought. 
But  there  come  moments  when  resistless  need 
To  pause,   to  ponder  what   the  new  dawn  brings, 
To  what  adventure  the  dim  highways  lead, 
Lies  like  a  silence  at  the  heart  of  things ; 
And  who  then  listens  with  a  will  to  heed 
Shall  hear,   from  out  the  mist  that  like  a  ghost 
Hovers  among  the  turnings  of  the  way, 
The  murmur  of  a  great  awaking  host, 
The   laugh  of  bugles  in  the  breaking  day, 
And  nearer  drawing,  nearer,   nearer  yet, 
The  trampling  horse  that  bears  the  first  Vidette. 

[  10  ] 


IX. 


TT7"HAT  do  they  bring  to  us,  these  marching  years? 

Come  they  as  embassies,  or  with  the  sword  ? 
What  legend  on  the  pennons  of  their  spears, 
Defiance  or  long  peace  and  sweet  accord  ? 


X. 


A    LAS  !  the  years  with  empty  hands  draw  nigh, 
They  do  not  come  to  give,  but  to  demand  ; 
And  to  the  question  we  must  make  reply  : 
"What  do  ye  bring  to  our  expectant  band?" 
The  right  is  theirs,  and  we  are  they  who  ought 
To  meet  them  bearing  gifts,  with  us  it  stands 
To  set  for  good  or  ill,  within  their   hands, 
The  tools  with  which  the  present  must  be  wrought. 


XI. 


/^V    SISTERHOOD  of  all  who  bear  the  name, 

Ye  do  not  seek  alone  a  widened  mart ; 
A  larger  thought  than  trade  is  in  the  heart ; 
There  is  a  nobler  and  a  truer  aim  ! 
The  "  Know  thyself"   engraved  above  the  door 
Of  Delphi's  oracle  we  alter  here, 
To  "  Know  each  other" — better  —  more  and  more, 
Tenants  in  common  of  the  hemisphere  ! 
For  Prejudice,   so  near  akin  to  Hate, 
Has  Ignorance  to  serve  him.     Will  ye  wait 
A  fairer  time  ?     What  time  so  fair  as  now  ? 
What  time  so  ripe  ?      Clasp  hand  in  hand,   and  thou, 
O  herald  year,  bear  witness  to  our  vow  ! 


XII. 

'   A  MONG  ourselves,  whatever  fate  may  be, 

We  will  not  strive  —  except  for  Liberty ; 
Of  varied  speech,   of  varied  lineage  sprung, 
Deep  in  our  hearts  we  speak  a  common  tongue. 
When  clouds  drift  low  across  the  sombre  skies, 
When  questions  nettle  and  debate  shall  rise, 
This  mother-tongue  of  all  who  would  be  free 
Shall  seal  our  scabbards  and  unseal  our  eyes." 


XIII. 

A    ND    thou,  my  Country,   whom  God's  hand    has  made 

Greater  of  stature,  heavier  of  blade 
Than  these  thy  sisters,  it  must  be  for  thee 
To  give  the  password  of  the  Century. 
For  thee  by  thine  ensample  to  illume 
The  road  that  stretches  towards  the  marching  years, 
And  so  to  lead  that  there  shall  be  no  room 
For  home-bred  cavil,   or  for  alien  sneers. 


XIV. 

"/^\H,  beautiful,   my  country,"   so  he  wrote, 

Our  Lowell,   for  whose  peer  we  wait  in  vain, 
Art  thou  less  beautiful  because  the  stain 
Of  tears  is  gone  from  off  thy  cheeks  ?     Shall  we 
Less  freely  all  we  have  to  thee  devote 
Than  did  our  Fathers,   who  gave  all  for  thee  ? 
We  hear  the  little  prophets  of  no  hope 
Whose  eyes  scarce  reach  the  level  of  thy  knee, 
Cast  doubt  upon  thy  splendid  horoscope, 
Because  thy  robe's  hem  only  can  they  see. 
We  know  thy  garments  sometimes  touch  the  mire, 
We  know  deep  waters  sometimes  cross  thy  way, 
We  know  thy  limbs  must  often  bend  and  tire, 
But  we  have  faith  and  stronger  hearts  than  they. 
For  well  we  know,  though  flood  and  mire  be  deep, 
Thy  steadfast  feet  upon  the  causeway  keep ; 
And  well  we  know  that  with  unshaken  will 
Undaunted  in  whatever  quest  may  be, 
Above  thy  head,  yet  golden   with  thy  youth, 
Thou  bearest  the  sacred  fire  of  the  truth, 
The  vestal  of  the  great  humanity 
And  Virgin  still ! 

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